There's Only One Truth
by Lucyh95
Summary: She knew. There was no doubt. And he should know; he was a detective, after all.


**There's Only One Truth**

* * *

She knew. There was no doubt. The evidence was there; in the way she looked at him—her eyes full of a whirling mix of emotion, her posture—her fingers gripping her skirt till her knuckles whitened, her voice—the faint tremor that was present when she had spoken. The proof was there. He should know; he was a detective, after all. And only at this very moment, he wanted it to be otherwise. He wished he didn't know, wished with all his heart that _she_ didn't know. This was not the plan; his secret, that had weighed down on his shoulders for so long was out and in the open. _And it was his fault, it was all on him. It was his responsibility._ And the way she looked at him right now, _he couldn't stand it_. So, Shamefully, _(and wasn't that cruel of him? Looking away at this very moment?)_ he averted his gaze from her too pale complexion and closed his eyes, his own breathing heavy and loud in his ears.

_It was only now that he wished he could outrun the truth. _

_His own truth._

_He was the worst._

**000**

_'Conan is...'_

She watched him. Not Conan. No. _Him_. She couldn't believe it. She didn't want to accept it. And yet, there was no doubt. It was the truth. And everything made sense now, the small pieces falling into place. _Finally_.

Her eyes felt hot, and she gripped the soft material of her skirt tightly till it nearly hurt. _Good_. She wanted to yell. At him for not trusting her, at herself for being too trusting.

_The anger faded as soon as it rose._

It was there, in the way he stood before her, the slouching shoulders, the rounded back bending under an invisible weight she could not even begin to imagine _(or, perhaps, she didn't want to),_ the way he averted his gaze from her own and closed his eyes. It was there, the proof. And with a sharp intake of breath, it dawned on her; he couldn't face it; these lies, his lies, the excuses he had used over and over again. He couldn't face it; _his own truth._ The question of _why_ circled around in her brain, the question, it was on the tip of her tongue.

"Why?"

The word, simple and yet— it burned. It had a bitter aftertaste.

She swallowed, but the flavor, it didn't disappear.

**000**

_"Why?"_

_Why?_ There were so many reasons, so many why's. Too many. And as the months passed, his reasons had piled up along with his lies, his excuses. He couldn't tell her, no, he couldn't. Even thinking about that— all the what-ifs that surfaced, the panic that gripped him; it made him nauseous. He already felt the bile rising up, tasting the sour taste at the back of his throat.

What if she wasn't safe? What if they got to her? What if...? And even if she hated him after this, it didn't matter, the only thing that mattered was that she was safe, that all of them were safe. Yeah, that was the—

_"Shinichi?"_

**000**

Somehow, the name that was so familiar to her, the name that she loved so much, it felt foreign on her tongue.

_"Shinichi?"_

He flinched at the sound of his own name, opened his eyes, and turned them toward her. The big, round glasses suddenly seemed so ridiculous on his small face, she nearly laughed, although there was nothing funny. It was quite the opposite. She took a step forward and reached out a hand, she didn't touch him.

"Shinichi, can you tell me?" She swallowed again, the bitter taste still there. "Please?"

**000**

_"Please?"_ The word, simple and yet— _it hurt, it stung._ He couldn't—he could not deny her the truth any longer. He had lost.

_He had failed her, he had failed them all._

_He was the worst._

**000**

And he told her. Not Conan. No. This was Shinichi. And Ran listened.

Eventually, his words ran out, and with the quiet, he appeared exhausted, dejected. Like the words had taken all his strength away. She watched as he raised a hand and took off his glasses; the glasses, they belonged to Conan, not Shinichi.

_Shinichi had never needed any glasses._

"I'm sorry, Ran." He met her eyes. "Even after all these months, I'm still no closer to unraveling the truth." He shook his head, and a strange smile wormed its way onto his face. It seemed uncomfortable, somehow. Painful, even. He gripped his head with one hand, strands of dark hair sliding through his fingers, and closed his eyes once more.

"What a detective I am, huh."

_'Ah.'_

Then, her tears came, hot and scalding sliding down her cheeks, which also felt like they were burning. He was in pain, the agony radiated from him, even if he tried his hardest to hide it. As he always had done. He always had shouldered everything by himself, even when they were little. He had always tried to look cool.

_It hurt her to see him this way._

"Ran!" His eyes widened at her tears. And she reached forward once more, and now, her fingers brushed his cheek. He flinched but didn't back away. "Don't apologize, you idiot! Why do you always have to shoulder everything by yourself? Even with all this danger, even after all you have done for me—_for us._ You should have told me! I— I—" Her voice shook, and she snivelled and wiped angered at her cheeks. "You idiot!" he flinched. "I'm angry, you know! And— I've missed you so much!" She hiccuped out a breath, _she was a mess_. "And I don't know what to do right now..." She was at a loss for words and suddenly she leaned forward and hugged him, his petite body going rigid for a moment before relaxing in her hold. She sobbed, the sadness flowing out of her. Numbly she felt his too-small hands come to a rest on her shuddering spine.

_"It's okay, Ran. It's okay. I'm sorry. I really am."_ These were the murmured words that soothed her through her emotional turmoil.

_And despite the whirlwind of emotions, for the first time in months, she felt at peace._

* * *

I wrote this a few months back.

All the mistakes are mine.


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